


Dancing With Broken Dreams

by Aphistas, theartificialwolf



Series: RP Miscellany [14]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbian AU, Stripper AU, We found love in a hopeless place, bartender katya, brief appearance of Max as a drunk, cis girls au, exotic dancer violet, prostitute Katya, queer girls au, stripper violet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:46:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7241863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphistas/pseuds/Aphistas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartificialwolf/pseuds/theartificialwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katya doesn't have a lot going for her, stuck in a dead end bartending job at a sleazy strip club and picking up tricks after work to make ends meet, until she meets a captivating young dancer at the club. Katya is convinced that the girl belongs somewhere better than this, a belief that only grows as she gets to know the beautiful and free-spirited Violet. Katya is in love with the girl but struggles to believe that someone like her would ever be worthy of someone like Violet. But maybe, just maybe, Violet can change Katya's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is an ongoing thread.

Katya poured another drink for another customer at the bar as she looked up at the main dancer on the stage. Dancer might have been too polite a name to call any of the performers at this seedy strip club, but the way she moved her long legs with her tiny waist and pale, swan-like neck, Katya couldn’t call her anything but a dancer. The dancer belonged somewhere better, somewhere grander than here. She deserved something better than shaking her ass for leering eyes and dollar bills, and she knew she wasn’t the only one. She had listened to the ramblings, some nights slurred, from the grey-haired young regular often enough, about how he wished he could take her far from here. Tonight, he was sitting right up front for her show with a few dollars in hand to keep her attention on him instead of one of the handsier patrons.

Katya shook her head as she tied her blonde hair up in a bun. She didn’t know why she cared so much for the dancer. She didn’t even know her real name; she’d never even spoken to her before either. Plus, what could she even do for her? She bartended at a shit club for shittier pay, and, to make ends meet, she whored herself in the alley to the pervs who couldn’t get their rocks off with one of the girls performing.

She poured another drink.

 

As soon as she got off the stage, Violet took a look at the note the grey-haired young man had slipped her between the dollars he handed her. Dating a patron was against the rules. Anything that interfered with bringing patrons in was against the rules, so that was pretty much everything.

There was a strict no sex work policy for the dancers but Violet didn’t know of any such policy for the rest of the staff. The waitresses and even the bartender herself sold their bodies to the patrons in the alley after the shows.

“Meet me outside, Bettie, please. Love, Max” the note read. It was sweet, but sweet wasn’t what Violet, or Bettie as she was onstage, could have. It was dangerous to fall in love when your profession was entertaining other men.

Poor sweet Max, falling in love with her. As long as she was working here, she couldn’t risk losing her job, not even for an sweet angel like Max. She wanted to laugh but more than anything else, she wanted a drink.

She sauntered up to the bar. Dancers weren’t supposed to drink but sometimes Katya had pity on her and poured her a shot when the manager wasn’t around. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. C'mon, it’s my birthday. I’m 24 today.”

 

The night had started to wind down. Patrons were slowly, with much stumbling involved, heading out, though a couple lingered by the backdoor in wait of one of the known whores to finish their club shift. Many of the dancers were collecting the rest of their tips and leaving for backstage when the dancer Katya always watched approached the bar.

Katya chuckled as she pulled out a glass and poured the dancer a glass of water. “You asked for what I’m having, am I right?” Katya said with a practiced wink from chatting with the drinkers at the bar for so long; although this time, it actually felt genuine. Katya picked up one of the many empty glasses and placed it into the used glasses box on the floor. “Though, since it is your birthday, I’m sure I can get you whatever you want. My treat.”

 

Violet chuckled but took a sip of the glass of ice water. “You don’t drink? Or just on shift? I don’t think I could deal with all of this completely sober. Just under enough influence to take the edge off is the way I like to be. I’ll take a shot of Jack if you’re offering. Thanks, by the way.”

Looking towards the door, Violet smiled coyly at the bartender. “Got any dirt on the cutie with the grey hair? I have reason to believe you’ve chatted once or twice,” she giggled, as she’d certainly seen him intoxicated before. “He asked me to meet him outside. I can’t as you know, but it’s sweet of him.”

 

Katya’s felt a pang in her heart when the dancer mentioned the regular. Everything seemed to go still for just a moment.

She shook it off. “No. I…I’ve discovered that I’m better off sober,” Katya said in response to her first question as she poured the dancer her drink of choice.

Of course the dancer was interested in the regular. He was young, attractive in an almost natural regal way. Katya could just picture the two of them together – in some loft apartment filled with art. The dancer would be auditioning for some role on Broadway. Or maybe she could still get into a ballet company? Or even a Rockette? Either way, Katya had no place in that type of world. She was already far too old; she was a decade older than her and had fucked up her life so much already. The dancer was still so young. The future still offered so much potential to the her.

“Not much,” Katya said in response to the dancer’s question about the regular. “Just know that he’s another fool in love with a vision he’s only been able to see on stage.” Katya started to wipe down a glass, more out of something to do with her hands than anything else as she saw one of her regulars staring at her while he stood by the backdoor. “What? Like you’ve never been one to break the rules once in awhile?”

 

Violet could have sworn she saw the bartender’s smile disappear for a second but she wasn’t sure. Maybe asking her about her sobriety wasn’t the best idea. “I’m sorry I brought it up, Katya. I think it’s really brave of you. I don’t think I could be that strong.”

She threw down her shot and slid Katya the glass back before anyone could see what they’d both just done. “Thanks again. Let me make it up to you. I’m going to go out the back and avoid Romeo out there. Then I’m going to go home and shower.” She snatched one of the pens stashed behind the counter for the servers and started writing her real name and number on a cocktail napkin.

“And if you’re feeling like going out or even just hanging later tonight or tomorrow, here’s my number. I have no idea what I’m doing for my birthday and since I’m still pretty new in town I don’t know too many people… The other girls think I’m a show off and hate me for taking the main draw slot…” Violet sighed, already did tired of the fighting. She turned her big pleading eyes on Katya. “Take pity on a girl and spend part of her birthday with her?”

 

Katya took the napkin from the dancer – Violet? A perfect name for her – with a soft smile. “Of course I will. I’ll give you a call later.” After she cleaned up the bar, after she picked up her trick, after she showered off the musky smell of sex from her body, she’d call Violet.

She waved goodbye to Violet – Violet! She had a name! – and wiped down the bar as everyone left, and then she stepped through the backdoor and into the alley where she was promptly grabbed by one of her regular tricks. The smell of alcohol on his breath as he asked if she was free tonight nauseated her, but she swallowed it down as she nodded. Maybe she could use some of it to buy Violet a decent meal some place?

After she got paid for the quick fucking – he never could last long after a couple drinks – she left for her cheap apartment. She unlocked the door and entered her sparse place. It wasn’t much, but it was home. She deadbolted the door behind her and dropped her keys, phone, and Violet’s note on her small kitchenette counter before she stripped out of her bartender clothes, leaving them laying on the floor as she headed into the shower.

As she let the lukewarm spray beat away the dirt and grime, Katya thought about Violet. Did she really want Katya to call her? Or maybe she did at the moment, but now regretted it. What could Katya even provide for her? Nothing. Katya shook her head, whipping drenched locks of hair back and forth. No. Violet had asked for her company, and Katya would give it, and if Violet had changed her mind, then she’d let Katya know. With that thought in mind, Katya started to plan on where to take Violet with her quick earned cash.

Katya stepped out of the shower and wrapped a old, holey towel around herself before she stepped out of her bathroom. She picked up her phone and dialed Violet’s number.

“Hello? It’s me, Katya. From the bar? Did you still want to do something for your birthday? I know a cute little place where we could get breakfast if you’d like?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hi Katya,” Violet answered, her voice a little higher and more feminine than usual, excited the bartender had indeed called her. However, she couldn’t stifle a yawn as she simply wasn’t a morning person. “Excuse me. Sorry. Yeah, I’d love to still do something!” Violet smiled as she ran her fingers though her dark hair. “Gimme half an hour to get ready and I’ll meet you there?”

—

A half hour later Violet walked through the doors of the place Katya had told her to meet her at. It was a classic American diner, the smell of eggs and bacon and pancakes filled the air, and huge steaming mismatched mugs of coffee were on practically every table. The place hadn’t changed a bit since it was probably opened in the 1950s and while it had seen better days, it was part of the charm. 

It didn’t take Violet long to spot Katya at one of the worn booths, already sipping a mug of coffee, looking as if she hadn’t slept all night. Violet slid onto the seat across from the bartender, spooking Katya as she’d been lost in thought when she approached. 

“Hi,” said Violet softly, smiling brightly at her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind. So uh, you know, thanks for coming out with me on my birthday. You didn’t have to…”

 

Katya couldn’t help but jump a little when Violet seemingly suddenly appeared beside her. A small blush crossed Katya’s cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I mean, um, it’s my pleasure.” Katya gestured to the opposite booth. “Please, sit.” As Violet took a seat, Katya reached for one of the menus and handed it to Violet with a grin. “Pretty much everything here is good. It’s all made by Jerry, and she’s been cooking here since I discovered this place as a teen. I do recommend the pancakes though.”

As Violet perused the menu, Katya just stared across the table back at Violet; she didn’t have to worry about her order, she got the same thing nearly every time she showed up – Jerry’s homestyle pancakes with a side order of the seasonal fruit which were strawberries now. As Katya stared back at Violet, she couldn’t help but smile. Violet was even more gorgeous without all that crap she painted across her face for a night show. 

When Violet looked up from her menu with a raised eyebrow, Katya couldn’t help but flush. “So, um, we don’t know much about each other outside of our jobs, do we?” Katya twisted a strand of her hair. “Um, if I may ask, what brought you here? Why choose to work at the Cat Scratch?” 

 

Violet smiled prettily and Katya grinned back at her over the rim of her cup of coffee. “My name is Violet Chachki, I’m 24 years old today, and I’m from Atlanta, Georgia.” She giggled. “I waist-train, and I sew my own clothes and I like it when my partners tie me up before they fuck me,” she added cheekily. 

Katya began to choke and cough, her coffee going down wrong after Violet’s last statement. Violet grabbed some napkins from the table dispenser to help Katya clean up the mess. “Sorry, are you okay?” Violet couldn’t help but giggle at Katya’s response to her casual statement. “You did say you wanted to know more about me although you’re probably regretting that now.” 

“I left home at a young age because I was queer and I just kind of told my parents that this is just how I’m going to be and so I just kinda ended up leaving, just wanting to get away and never look back. I ended up here,” Violet vaguely indicated her surroundings, “because I needed a change from the last place I was. And I’m here with you, because I want to be.”

Violet smiled at Katya. “You know, you’re the only one on staff who actually watches me dance… So what about you, Katya, what’s your story?”

 

Katya couldn’t help but choke on her coffee after Violet revealed her preferences in bed. 

“Nope, not regretting it at all,” Katya said with a grin and flushed cheeks. When Violet revealed that she was queer, Katya’s eyes widened, though she stayed silent to hear the rest of Violet’s story. 

When Violet asked about herself though, Katya looked down at her coffee mug with a wry grin. “Nah. You really don’t want to hear my story. Not something to be enjoyed over a meal at least.” However, Katya’s resolve over not telling Violet her own story wavered when she looked back up and met Violet’s curious yet disappointed eyes. “I mean, the short story is that I became estranged from my family because of my sexuality, fell into a lifestyle full of drugs and alcohol and sleeping in homeless shelters when I could.” Katya shrugged. “Eventually, I ran out of money and had to sober up the hard way.” Katya carefully left out the times she’d whored herself out just for drug money. At least now when she prostituted, it was to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach, not to feed a gross addiction. 

Katya pushed her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve seen me watch you dance though?” Katya asked with a soft smile. “I do because I believe you’re talented enough to dance anywhere. You’re really good, and certainly better than anything the Cat Scratch offers.” 

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Katya turned and smiled up at the familiar waitress. “Hey, Deb. How are you doing? The kids okay? Jack?” As Deborah sputtered over how thoughtful Katya was and asked who Katya’s friend was with a very obvious wink, a bright pink blush rose of Katya’s cheeks. “Um, this is Violet. It’s her birthday, Deb. I’ll just have my usual – Jerry’s homestyle pancakes with the fruit, if that’s not too much to ask for.” 

Katya rubbed at her pink cheeks as Deborah turned her attention to Violet. 

 

Violet couldn’t keep her disappointment at Katya not telling her story after saying she wanted to get to know Violet better. Katya must’ve seen because she relented. Violet listened intently as Katya told her sad tale. No wonder she was sober. Violet wished she could just pull Katya into her arms and tell her how brave and strong she was to get out of that. But Katya changed topics and Violet allowed it, not wanting to press the issue. 

“I see everything from that stage. It’s a nice vantage point. People don’t expect exotic dancers to look for anything beyond their next tip or their next hit. I could dance elsewhere but the patrons aren’t as interesting. Richer men are more likely not to take no for an answer, thinking they can buy you. Poorer men know they can’t afford you, so they try to get you for free. That’s easier to handle. But that’s beside the point.”

Violet realized she was getting dangerously close to thin ice, knowing what Katya did after her shift was over. She’d done it herself before and she knew what it was like to be in that situation. She didn’t think any less of Katya for what she had to do to support herself. “You meet more interesting people in a place like The Cat Scratch. The most interesting person of all is usually the bartender. They see and hear it all.” Violet grinned. “I bet you’ve got all kinds of stories.”

Their waitress appeared and Violet watched curiously as Katya asked about her family. She really had been going there for quite a while then. No wonder they were curious who Violet was. Katya probably didn’t often have company then. Once Katya ordered, Violet smiled sweetly at Deb and told her. “I’ll have the same.” 

Once Deb left with their orders, Violet turned back to Katya with a twinkle in her eye. “I take it you don’t take many girls here?”

 

Katya shook her head, her face still a little flushed from when Violet implied that she was interesting. 

“Nah, no girls here.” A half smile appeared on Katya’s lips as she looked at the tabletop. “I really don’t date much at all anyway,” Katya said as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s not like many are lining up to date me anyway.” 

Katya gave her head a small shake and looked back at Violet. “Anyway, enough about me. You,” Katya looked hard at Violet before she repeated, “you could be a star. A principle dancer in a ballet company if you wanted.” When Violet rolled her eyes, Katya said, “No, I’m being serious, you could. Or the next Dita Von Teese. But,” Katya slowly and nearly imperceptibly shook her head, “that doesn’t seem to interest you. So,” Katya steepled her fingers together before she rested her chin on them, “what does Violet still want to be when she grows up?” 

 

“Why not?” Violet asked, perhaps a little too quickly. “You seem a more than decent sort. Anyone would be lucky to date you.” 

Violet allowed the change in subject. “I could be Dita Von Teese if I wanted to. But she’s already Dita Von Teese. I want to be Violet Chachki. I want people to wear my designs. I want a runway show in Paris every season. I want a cosmetic line even. I want the world. But the world doesn’t take me seriously yet. I’ll show them. There’s a million things I haven’t done yet in my life but I will. Then they’ll see.”


End file.
